The Other Woman
by youcrazything
Summary: Post "Trial and Error". Bonnie thinks about her life and where it has led her. WARNING: Dark fic!
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Other Woman  
By: Lisa Marie aka youcrazything  
Rating: R. WARNING: Dark fic  
Summary: Bonnie thinks about her life and where it has led her.  
A/N: I dunno where the hell this came from… you all know that I tend to stick with the comedy. Hmm… must be the lack of sleep…

-

She knows it was never about him truly caring about her. She knows that he was confused and frustrated. She knows that he regrets every moment he has spent with her. And yet, all she can do is think about how she wishes he were here. She lays splayed out on her couch, head hanging back over the edge.

Its days like this she wonders if it would be so bad to take one of her kitchen knives and just slice along the veins on her wrists. She can imagine the blood welling to the surface and spilling out. She can imagine her life slipping from her as she wears a smile on her face with tears streaming down her face. Bittersweet; it's the story of her life.

She can remember her mom and dad on her 10th birthday, so happy to celebrate the day their beautiful daughter had been born. She can remember the times her father took her to the carnival and bought her the big packets of cotton candy. He would always steal some of the fluffy, sugary candy from her and they would laugh as their fingers and mouths become sticky. She remembers her mom tucking her into bed at night and telling her how much she loved her.

But she also remembers the screaming. Screaming so loud that she would clamp her hands over her ears and hide under the dining table. She remembers waking up to hearing her mother sobbing downstairs. She remembers the long walk down the stairs, remembers finding her mother sitting at the bottom, head in hands, sobbing as if her life was over. She remembers the realization that her dad was never coming back. She remembers when her mother started taking her anger out on her. The love she had proclaimed while tucking her in at night disappeared with the crazed look in her eyes and each blow she laid on her. She remembers finally standing up and insisting on getting emancipated. She remembered never feeling so alone in her life when she moved into her tiny little apartment.

Then she had met Adam. He had been the first to appreciate her art. He didn't care that it was dark and that she was so obviously troubled. He still called it art, still said it was amazing and beautiful. She had almost felt like she was transported back to the time before her parents abandoned her. That had been the immediate attraction to him.

He had taken her to see Mrs. Girardi as soon as he got the chance. She was intrigued to find out that this amazing woman really did have a knack for art. She somehow reminded her of her own mother, before she had become cold and angry. She knew she was hooked when she found out that Mrs. Girardi was the one and only Joan Girardi's mother. Joan had fascinated her every since they first met at the shelter. She remembers hoping that maybe she and Joan could eventually become friends. It was the first time she had felt any hope of not being alone for a long time.

Bonnie snorted to herself, bringing her thoughts back to the present. _Fat chance of that happening_. She had definitely ruined any chances of becoming Joan's friend.

She remembers the first time Adam had come over. She had invited him so that they could collaborate on an art project. They combined her dark style with his knack for using junk other people threw away and made the coolest sculpture she had ever seen. She remembers how much fun they had building it. The last time she could remember laughing so much was before her dad had deserted her.

They had finished the sculpture and stood back to admire it. She had turned to him, eyes bright with excitement. Their eyes locked, and there was no way she could deny the attraction she felt towards him. She had felt a thrill run through her when his gaze dropped to her lips for a moment. She knew then; she could feel it. He had wanted her too. They had leaned in and gave into the tension that had been building up all night. It had all happened so fast, but soon their clothes lay in piles on the floor and he was pushing her back on the bed. She had been so overcome with passion for him; it almost scared her. She'd had sex before, but it had always been meaningless, just another way to pass the time. Now, she knew that this was more; she truly had feelings for him. And it had been amazing.

She had expected him to be the cuddly type; something she had never had before. So, she had been surprised when he had pulled away so soon after they were finished. He had sat up and pulled on his boxers and pants and sat on the edge of the bed, looking confused.

She had sat up behind him, wrapping an arm around him and attempting to cuddle up to him, asking him what was wrong. He had shrugged her off and turned to face her. She could have sworn her heart had stopped when she saw the look on his face. That's when he had told her. _Joan is my girlfriend_. With that, he had left.

She had felt sick to her stomach. Joan, this girl she had found so intriguing and wanted so badly to accept her. She had done the unthinkable; she had slept with the girl's boyfriend. Her stomach had lurched and she ran to the bathroom, throwing up all of her stomach's contents into the toilet. As the retching subsided, she started to cry. Big, heart-wrenching sobs escaped her as she leaned back against the wall. _What have I done?_ She had thought to herself over and over.

He had come back of course. She tried to refuse him, she really had. But she couldn't; her feelings for him had only grown with the intimate act they had shared. It had only been a few times, but she learned fast. She had known that every time she let him lay her down on the bed and take her over, she was slipping farther and farther away from any chances of befriending the one person she had remotely liked in the longest time. She had stopped caring. She could feel herself becoming cold and hard again every time she let him inside of her. She was closing herself off again. She even tried to turn it around the last time, tried to make it a relationship. But really, what did she know about those? None of the other guys she had been with had wanted one, why should he be any different?

She had purposefully approached him in front of Joan that day of the mock trials. The hurt and pain had all been real, but she had wanted to put on a good show, make him get what he deserved. Bastard, using her for sex, and lying to one of the nicest people she knew. She had hung back afterwards long enough to see Joan walk out of the room, tears streaming down her face. She knew Joan had broken up with him. She felt a sense of closure wash over her with the knowledge. _You had it coming; you creep_, she thought bitterly as she stared at Adam through the door.

Now, as she contemplated her smooth unscarred wrists, she wondered if it would really hurt all that much. It would just take one swift cut on each wrist; then she could sink into oblivion. An insane laugh escaping her lips, she placed a hand on her stomach. And his bastard child could go down with her. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing he had knocked her up. _I should just do it… slit my wrists and leave him a fucking love letter written in blood._ The thought only made her laugh harder. Who would care if she died? _No one, that's fucking who._

She stumbled her way into the kitchenette area and grabbed the blade out of its holder. She held the blade up in the light, admiring the glare that shined back at her. _It'll be beautiful_, she thought. _Blood splattered everywhere, me in the middle of it all, pale and dead. Someone should paint it and make it a fucking piece of priceless art._ She chuckled madly to herself. _Lover boy should do it. Fucking priceless irony._

She arranged herself on the couch; she had to be in the perfect pose for the portrait after all. She lifted the gleaming blade to her wrist, tears started to tread down her cheeks, all while she cackled hysterically. It was exactly as she had pictured it. Sweet nothingness was soon to come; she could almost taste it. A knock sounded on the door, startling her badly. The knife dropped from her hands onto the floor.

"Shit!" She cried out in frustration. She screamed out, "You can't ruin my moment!"

"Bonnie? Bonnie! What's going on?" It was Joan on the other side of the door. Just fucking great. Life was a real bitch sometimes. Before she could do anything to stop it, Joan had managed to burst through the door. She rushes in only to come to a sudden halt when she sees Bonnie laid out on the couch, laughing madly and crying at the same time, knife clutched back in her grip.

"Oh God!" Joan cries hand flying to her mouth in shock.

"What, are you gonna be my savoir?" Bonnie slurs out at her. "That's too damn priceless. I fucked your boyfriend and now your going to beg me not to slit my wrists, right?"

Joan's eyes darken, but she quickly reaches out to Bonnie's shaking hand and gently took the knife.

"Look, you may not be my favorite person right now," Joan told her softly. "But don't do this."

Bonnie stops laughing. The crying starts coming more forcibly now.

"What do you think you're doing, bitch?" She screams at Joan, grabbing at her, eyes wild. "Didn't you hear me? I fucked your boyfriend! And guess what sweetie? Bastard managed to knock me up. I have your fucking asshole boyfriend's baby inside of me! Still want me to live?"

Joan only stares at her in shock as Bonnie grabs and tugs at her jacket.

"Do you hear me, bitch?" Bonnie cries desperately.

"Shhh," Joan comforts her, pulling her into a hug. "Its ok. Its ok."

Bonnie is breaking down now. She falls limp against Joan and sobs hysterically.

"No! Its not!" She chokes out between sobs. "I can't have a baby! I'm 17 years old! And I betrayed you…"

"No," Joan says darkly, eyes going cloudy again. "Adam betrayed me. I barely know you."

Bonnie goes suddenly deathly calm.

"I wanted to be your friend, you know?" She shakes her head, looking for all the world like a lost little girl. "I haven't wanted to be friends with anyone before."

"Then why the hell did you sleep with Adam?" Joan demands harshly.

"I didn't know he was your boyfriend. He didn't tell me until after we…"

"Oh God," Joan whispers, blinking in shock. She feels like she could vomit. He had played them both. The Adam she knew would have never been capable of such a thing. What had happened to the boy she fell in love with?

"I am so sorry," Bonnie tells her, sincerity clear in her wide, teary eyes.

Joan wants to hate her for taking a part of Adam away from her, she really does. But, how can she when Bonnie is sitting here in front of her, just brought back from a total breakdown and practically begging for her forgiveness?

"It's ok," Joan promises, even though she isn't so sure it will be. "I'll help you get through this. We can be…" Joan sucks in a deep breath, as Bonnie looks up at her, wide-eyed and hopeful. "We can be friends."

"Really?" Bonnie asks in a small voice that reminds Joan of a little child.

"Yeah," Joan replies, a forced smile appearing on her lips. "We'll get you through this, I swear."

Bonnie lets out a tired sigh of relief as she leans back on the couch, exhausted from all the drama.

"Thank you," she whispers as her eyes finally flutter closed, sleep claiming her.

Joan feels a presence nearby and looks up to find Cute Boy God standing in the doorway.

"For a kind, merciful God, you sure like to mess with your people," Joan comments coldly with her arms crossed as she glares at him.

"Actions have consequences," God told her simply. "Adam knew this but didn't want to think that he'd have to face up to his."

"And Bonnie? What did she do to deserve this?" Joan demands, angry that God could do such horrible things to her and the people around her.

"Free will, Joan," God reminds her. "Adam used his wrongly. Bonnie was an innocent who just got caught in the middle."

"How is that fair?" Joan shouts at him, wondering if her growing faith in him can survive this.

"It may seem like the world is falling apart now, but it will get better."

"Promise?" Joan asks in a small voice, feeling so lost with everything that has happened in the past couple of days.

"Mercy, compassion, forgiveness, companionship, love. All things that come out of the smallest gestures, but can have such a deep impact on others," God informs her, his own love and compassion shining through his avatar's eyes. "You gave all of that to Bonnie. Restored her hope. You did well, Joan. Time heals all wounds, but for someone to have faith in you no matter what…now that is a miracle."

Joan watches him turn to leave, his trademark wave sent over his shoulder. She can feel that he is right. No matter how dark things were now, they could only get better. And she wasn't alone in this.

She carefully sits down next to Bonnie, trying not to disturb her peaceful slumber. She gently brushes the hair away from her forehead and is struck with the realization that she knows nothing about this girl. She vows to get to know her; to help her through what is going to be some very rough times.

"I promise, it will be ok."


	2. Chapter 2

After that night, Joan still drops by regularly. For the first couple of weeks, she fears finding a bloody scene greeting her, but then she comes to realize that Bonnie is past that. Now, all she finds is a broken girl who is often sitting curled up on the couch staring off into space. Joan's visits have become daily, after finding out the only time Bonnie would eat was during Joan's presence in the tiny apartment. She wonders if all Bonnie does is wait tables and sit and stare at the wall.

Joan loathes the situation. She feels torn, even after spending so much time with this girl, she still gets that feeling; that she should hate her and not give a flying fuck what happened to her. The stronger, more compassionate side of her always wins, seeing the ruins of what could have possibly once been a happy, normal teenage girl.

Well into the third week like this, Bonnie seems to be doing better. Joan swears she can see a ghost of a smile appear on the girls face when Joan makes one of her many sarcastic jokes. Most of her visits consist of a one sided conversation. Joan rambles on, because it's really all she knows to do in a situation like this. Bonnie's responses are far and few between, but Joan can tell she listens, no matter how stupid the ramblings get.

She knows that Bonnie must be about a month pregnant by now, and thinks it might be a good time to start discussing it. She knows it could possibly send Bonnie spiraling back down into her depression, but she also knows it needs to be done. After school, she brings some magazines and brochures with her and hopes that this conversation will go smoothly.

"Hey Bonnie," she greets, plastering a forced smile on her face. She always tries to be cheery and extra nice to the frail girl. She hopes her upbeat attitude is contagious. "I know you probably don't want to discuss this, but it kind of has to be done. We need to be thinking about getting you a doctor and possibly start planning a budget for once you have the baby…"

Joan is cut off by a sharp laugh from Bonnie. It closely resembles the maniacal laugh she had heard the night Bonnie tried to cut herself. It stops Joan in her tracks, scares her.

"There isn't going to be a baby," Bonnie tells her dryly, smiling even though it is clear she isn't really happy or amused in the slightest.

"Oh," Joan responds, trying to take this in. "You… aren't pregnant after all?"

"Oh I am, " another short mirthless laugh escapes her lips. "Just not for very long."

"You're going to…" Joan says, startled. She can't even finish the sentence, because in her mind it is completely unfathomable.

"Yup," Bonnie responds, getting up from her seat on the couch. "Been thinking about it a lot. Decided there is no way I am having the bastard's baby."

Joan sits deathly still, trying to catch up to where things were heading.

"Want something to eat?" Bonnie asks as she opens the fridge to see what's inside. Joan had just stocked it the other day for her. "Least I can do for all the times you practically hand fed me."

"No, I'm good," Joan tells her as she studies her.

There is a silence as Bonnie makes a quick, simple sandwich and sits back down next to Joan.

"Do you want me to…" Joan gulps, not really sure she is truly prepared to do what she is offering. Bonnie looks at her questioningly as she takes a bite of her sandwich. "Do you want me to go with you? To the clinic I mean."

"You would do that?" Bonnie asks in something akin to wonder, looking at Joan with her wide eyes.

"Yeah," Joan forces out another plastic smile. She's getting more used to faking them now. "I told you I would help you get through this, didn't I?"

"You did," Bonnie nods, and she seems at ease, a rarity these days. "I'll let you know when I set a date and a time, yo."

Joan fakes a smile again, her teeth clenching this time. She wonders if it is just a result of modern day slang or if Bonnie had picked up that word from Adam. Either way, it feels like a knife in her gut.

Bonnie flips open a page in one of the magazines Joan brought over.

"For real, can you really see me wearing that?" Bonnie asks, indicating a pink flowing maternity top with an arched brow. Joan tries to picture the dark haired girl in the outfit, but it only results in a tiny laugh.

A slight twitch of the corner of Bonnie's mouth is her version of an amused smile as she continues to flip through the magazine and nibble on her sandwich.


	3. Chapter 3

Joan opens the door for Bonnie and leads the way into the clinic. Bonnie had seemed so sure and confident of her choice before, so much that it had seemed to lift her spirits. But now, she looked absolutely terrified. Joan reaches out for the girl's hand and gives it a light squeeze, making sure she remembers she is not alone. Bonnie looks grateful, and refuses to give the hand back. Joan wonders idly if they look like a couple, strolling the hall with their hands linked. Somehow, she can't find it in herself to care what people might think.

After a long wait, they finally arrive in the room the procedure is going to take place. To Joan it feels like an executioners room. A room where murder of innocent lives yet to be born are taken on a daily basis. To Bonnie it seems to be a dungeon, closing in on her, because she starts to breathe heavier. Joan doesn't hesitate to wrap her arms firmly around the smaller girl. She holds her until the doctor comes into the room.

Time seems to pass differently in this little room, the preliminary talking and preparation seem to move so fast that Joan has no idea what has even been said. Then, when Bonnie lays back into the chair and the doctor pulls out his tool (_Weapon_, Joan's mind supplies. _Weapon for murder_.) time seems to have slowed to an almost halt. Bonnie squeezes her eyes shut and grabs for Joan's hand as the doctor moves in. Joan can't take her eyes off of the scene before her. She looses all sense of reality then and doesn't take her eyes off Bonnie's stomach until the girl releases her hand and touches her face lightly. Joan looks up, startled. Bonnie carefully wipes her thumb across Joan's cheek, and that's when she realizes that the doctor has left and that she is crying.

"So, its over now, right?" Joan whispers, wiping the rest of her tears away herself.

Bonnie's pretty face scrunches up into an unreadable emotion, "I thought it would be that simple. That… it being gone would take the problem away." She lifts a shaky hand to touch her stomach. "Joan, I could feel it. I felt it die."

Joan's façade crumbles, and the tears start pouring down her cheeks again. She cries for what she lost with Adam. She cries for the girl in front of her, who only has more suffering ahead of her. She cries for the innocent little baby that she watched get sucked right out of Bonnie's stomach.

Bonnie hugs her tightly, and sobs with her. She isn't sure whether it's for Joan, her whole fucked up life, or the lost baby; but she cries all the same.


End file.
